Once again, not a question. I casually stroll through the small house, stopping every once and a while to examine something more closely. I feel the eyes of both my Imperials and the family burning into my back as I take my time perusing the home, hands casually in my pockets.
Nothing seems out of the ordinary.
I’m about ready to call this a dead end and a waste of my time when I step in the middle of the patterned rug, now faded from years of trampling feet. A creak sounds beneath my shoes. I stop and shift my weight, listening for the sound again. Sure enough, wood groans once again beneath the rug.
Interesting.
Though Nathan’s face remains expressionless, the blood has drained from it, leaving him ghostly pale. “Lift the rug,” I say dryly to the guards, never taking my eyes off the family. And that’s when I spot an emotion I’m all too familiar with, the one that tends to accompany my presence.
Fear.
As the rug rolls back, I spot the outline of a trapdoor, blending in almost seamlessly with the rest of the dirty, wooden floorboards.
The thud. This is what I heard closing when I was outside.
A sob escapes Layla when I kneel and swing the trapdoor open, revealing a cramped, dark space beneath. There, tucked in the corner and hugging her knees, sits a little girl. When she looks up at me, the fire in her eyes matches the bright red of her long hair.
Plagues, she’s so young.
She can’t be more than eight years old, but the girl doesn’t fight me as I reach down and lift her out of the damp box. I set her on the floor where she stares defiantly up at me, not a trace of fear on her small face splattered with freckles.
I feel for any sort of power coming from her, just to be sure. Nothing. There is nothing extraordinary about this girl—because she’s Ordinary.
Strangled sobs begin filling the room.
“No, no, no!” Layla’s shaky screams echo off the walls. “You can’t take her! You can’t! She’s my daughter, please!” The Imperials step between me and the raging family, but I push past them, annoyed. The boys are both sobbing now, hugging their mother’s legs while Nathan looks stunned, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and into his matted beard.
“Calm down and tell me where the hell she came from and how long you’ve been harboring her.” My voice is low and stern, cutting through the chaos. The little girl standing before me looks nothing like this family with her freckles and flaming red hair. Not to mention that both Nathan and Layla are Elites, meaning the two of them could never produce an Ordinary.
“She…she’s been here for three years.” Layla’s voice trembles, sobs racking her small frame. “We f-found her on the streets, so we took her in. We wanted a daughter. I couldn’t have any more kids…” she trails off, wiping at her face. “I’m one of the few Healers in the slums, and she seemed healthy, strong. So, when we found Abigail, we…we finally got to have a little girl.”
Abigail.
I wish I didn’t know. Wish I didn’t have to add another name to the endless list of those unfortunate enough to cross my path, unfortunate enough to cross the king.
I heave a sigh.
Here it comes.
“You know the law.” More choking sobs fill the room, forcing me to raise my voice. “By decree of the king, all Ordinaries are to be executed. As for anyone harboring said Ordinaries, they are to be banished to the Scorches—”
I was in the middle of reciting the same rehearsed lines I’ve said dozens of times when a large, solid body charges at me. The blank stare he wore just moments ago is long gone, replaced by a hatred that contorts his face in fury. Nathan hits me around the middle and runs me into the wall, knocking the air from my lungs while bashing the back of my head against the hard wood.
That’s gonna kill like the Plague tomorrow.
I distantly hear a scream tear from Layla’s throat, along with the Imperials’ heavy footsteps as they run over to intervene. “No!” I shout at them, ducking under a punch aimed at my nose while the guards halt, confused. “I’ll handle him myself.”
He throws another punch, this one intended to break my jaw. I dodge just in time to see his fist connect with the wooden wall where my face was, sending splinters flying when his hands breaks straight through.
My fighting instincts take over, and I don’t even bother reaching out to use Nathan’s power. With his fist still buried in the wall, I duck under his outstretched arm and pull out his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back to press it beneath his left shoulder blade. He grunts in pain before kicking back at my kneecap, hard. Pain sears up my leg as he spins out of my hold, raising his supernaturally strong fist.
Ignoring the pain in my knee, I drop and sweep my leg in a wide arc, connecting with his ankles and sending him sprawling onto his back. Then I’m on top of him, pinning his arms down with my knees as I finally let his Brawny strength claw to the surface, knowing I won’t be able to keep him down without using his own power against him. He thrashes, baring his teeth at me.
“Shut up and listen to me,” I pant. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. And personally, I’d prefer the easy way.”
“She’s my daughter!” he bellows, a look of anguish in his eyes as he tries to tear me off him.
“Well, clearly, you have no regard for my feelings, because you want to do this the hard way.” I sigh, cock my fist back, and connect it with his jaw. His head snaps to the side, stunning him long enough to let me speak. “If you don’t cooperate, even your wife won’t have the ability to heal your broken body once I’m finished with you. So, I suggest you thank me for not killing you right here in front of your family and do exactly as I say.”
Nathan stills beneath me, the fight seeming to drain from his eyes. I shift, crouching beside him to stare down at his defeated form. “Now, get the hell up before I change my mind,” I murmur before standing to my feet. When he doesn’t budge, I add, “Patience is about as foreign to me as mercy, so I wouldn’t press your luck.”
At that, he scrambles to his feet and steps in front of his huddled family, blocking them from me. Shielding them from a monster. I keep my eyes locked on the sight of them, taking in the tears spilling down their cheeks and sobs slipping past their lips as I bark orders to the Imperials.
They hurry to heed my commands, tying up the prisoners as I casually add, “Keep to the side streets. Clearly, I’m in a good mood today. Feeling merciful if you will,” I huff out the words. “So I’d rather not have an audience.”
The Imperials grunt their agreement, smiling slightly at my idea of mercy. Within a matter of minutes, Nathan, Layla, and their two boys are tied and shuffling behind the horses. They twist their heads around, hatred burning in their gazes as they eye Abigail tied and firmly held in my grasp.
They know what happens now. My reputation is rather renowned, stories of the murderous monster murmured throughout the streets.
This is the part where I kill the Ordinary while the Imperials escort the criminals to the Scorches where they will likely follow her into death. With its blistering heat by day and freezing temperatures by night, it’s no simple feat to make it to the other side of the desert where the cities of Dor and Tando lie. Not to mention that I’ve just sentenced this family to try and do just that with no supplies, no food, no water, and no hope.